An Unlikely Alliance
by 002
Summary: When three of the best MI6 agents are called to work together on an important case with global ramifications for every secret agent in the world, their identities are kept from each other until the last moment. Thrust out on assignment, this trio has to w
1. Survival of the Best

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life. **

(20 YEARS AGO)

Archangelsk, Siberia

The two black-suited men swiftly drifted through the Russian nerve gas facility like shadows, not a camera not guard aware of their presence. 006 and 007. Comrades, killers, but above all, friends.

"Night night," Alec Trevelyan muttered as he dispatched a guard silently, Walther PPK claiming another victim, and prepared to move on.

"Wait, Alec," James Bond hissed, throwing up a hand. Moving into the small room where the guard lay dead in a crumpled heap, the two agents peered out of the glass windows. Below was a warehouse full of highly explosive tanks, undoubtedly full of pressurised nerve-gas.

Alec whistled. "That's it. Let's get down, plant the charges, and be back in town for a pint."

James grinned. "It's almost too easy."

Alec smiled too. "Half of everything is luck, James."

"And the other half?"

Suddenly, raucous alarm bells sounded, blaring throughout the facility. 006 and 007 knew exactly why.

Alec grimaced. "Fate!"

The agents quietly slipped out of the room and made their way to the stairs, where they ran to the warehouse floor and spread out. Both slipped charges from bags, both set the timers to six minutes.

Bond set his fifth timer, and glanced up to see an entire legion of Russian troops smash through the glass windows and pour down the stairs. Trevelyan was immediately on the scene, and unblinkingly brought down the leading soldiers with a steadfast aim. However, as more and more soldiers came out, and Bond set his sixth timer, Trevelyan was overwhelmed and forced to the floor. An imposing figure stood over him. General Arkady Grigorovitch Ouromov aimed his gun at Trevelyan's head and looked up to where Bond was hidden, at work with his charges.

Uncharacteristically, Bond didn't even notice the cease in gunfire. He planted the eighth charge, and set it to six minutes, at which point every other timer around the room, busy ticking down, also reset to the same time and started ticking again. It was an essential safety measure by Q to ensure that the first charge didn't run down and kill you before you had planted the last one.

Jokingly, he shouted, "Shut the door, Alec, there's a draught!"

No response. No repartee, no witty reply, nothing. The door didn't even audibly close. Suddenly, Bond noticed the eerie silence.

"Alec?" Suddenly, 007 was worried. He glanced out, and his stomach sank. At least fifty Russian soldiers had rifles trained on his friend Trevelyan, as well as General Ouromov, who was actually pressing his gun into 006's head. Bond knew that this time, there would be no dodging the fire. Not for Alec, anyway. He ducked behind the gas tank again.

"Come out with your hands above your head!" Ouromov's nasal Russian accent rang out.

"How original," 007 muttered, and prepared to set the timers to three minutes instead.

But then he stopped.

In a moment of blinding clarity, 007 realised what had to be done, and didn't make the fatal mistake of setting the timers to three minutes.

He stayed well behind the gas tanks, and called out to Ouromov:

"We are both prepared to die for our country. Our lives mean nothing compared to the destruction of this facility. So, I warn you, I will blow this whole place now if you don't do what I say." Bond pulled a switch from his pocket and waved it in the air. He hoped that Ouromov would take the bait. In reality, the bomb charges were, of course, on timers, and would detonate whatever happened. But, as the two MI6 agents had placed them facing away from the doorway, the Soviets probably didn't know that. At least, Bond hoped so. The switch itself was useless, a leftover from some remote mines used earlier on that day. But Ouromov didn't know that.

The Russian colonel glanced quickly around. As none were pointed at him, he could see none of the readouts on the charges, but he suspected they read "Armed" or something similar. And he knew that there were easily enough charges to blow the facility sky-high. If he hadn't stopped Trevelyan, maybe by now there would be enough firepower to blow the dam below too. There was a short period of silence as he thought hard. A bead of sweat rolled down Ouromov's brow.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

007 allowed himself a grin. Perhaps he was getting somewhere. But he needed to resolve this quickly. They only had another three minutes before the place went up.

"I want you to drop your gun. Actually, throw it over to me. A responsible adult. Alec, don't move."

Trevelyan hadn't, for the last five minutes.

The gun clattered at Bond's feet, and he picked it up. "Good. Now, let Alec get up, and walk slowly over to me."

Ouromov was furious. "No! We will not let you both go just so you can walk out and blow us up!"

Bond raised two placating hands. Two minutes left. "If you allow myself and Alec to leave via that conveyor belt," he indicated the one, "then in return, I will push the switch back through, so that I cannot detonate the charges. I expect you will get a bomb disposal team to help out, and tighter security…"

Ouromov licked his lips, tasting the sweat beaded on them. In the end, it was a good deal. It all came out with the British spies off location, and he had the switch, so the charges couldn't blow. Yes, that was probably good.

"Fine." He took a step back, and motioned to Trevelyan. "Go." Alec stood up, and paced across the room, quietly thanking Bond sincerely. The two spies, Bond holding the switch high and with one finger resting on it should they be fired upon, walked across the room to where the conveyor belt disappeared in a tangle of rubber mesh, leading to the outside.

One minute.

Alec went first, crawling through the opening and out of range, feeling like a piece of luggage being transported outside. James then backed in, holding the switch high.

Ouromov retrieved his gun and aimed it shakily at 007, from just a couple of metres. "The switch, or I shoot it from your hand!"

Bond smiled, and placed the switch on the floor, crawling out of sight. Everyone visibly and audibly sighed with relief.

As soon as 006 and 007 were outside, they dashed around the tarmac surrounding the menacing building, to where they had cut through the perimeter fencing. Scrambling through the jagged hole, they ran over the thick grass, to where their transport was parked. It was an Aston Martin DB5, which was actually Bond's private car, but there was no time to discuss issues like that. Alec happened to be running on the left side of the pair, so he rounded the bonnet and leapt into the seat, slamming the door. James clambered quickly into his seat, Alec gunned the engine, and they were gone, disappearing down a small lane into the cold Siberian night.

Inside Archangelsk Chemical Weapons Research Facility, Ouromov turned to address his troops, seemingly in triumph. But as he turned, he was able to read the faces of the 13 charges on the huge nerve-gas tanks. Ouromov's mouth opened in shock, and he silently mouthed the words:

"Three…two…one…"

It was hard to tell what killed them first. The deadly nerve gas, or the gargantuan explosion. Either way, 006 and 007 were well away, and on the route to London, another assignment in the bag.

**A.N. Okay, so basically, this chappie was all about how 006 didn't leave MI6 at Archangelsk, but returned home and resumed service, alive and well. Please R+R!**


	2. TripleCrosser

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life. **

(3 YEARS AGO)

Skies above Korea

The gigantic Antonov A-124 hurtled through the skies like a grossly overgrown bird, heading for no destination in particular. Giacinta Johnson, better known as Jinx, sat at the cockpit, slumped in relief. She had managed to control the insane dive caused by the depressurization in the area below, and now they were steady, although only just under some of the lower clouds. To one side, perhaps twenty-five miles away, the glowing orange Icarus beam blasted through the skies, stretching as far up as it was possible to see. Slowly moving in a swathe through the Demilitarized Zone, which was one of the most heavily militarized zones in the entire peninsula of Korea, it was constantly surrounded by small explosions which would kill a man, but were totally insignificant compared to the destructive power of Gustav Graves' laser. Slowly but surely, the mines in the DMZ were being cleared, and soon North Korea would be able to cross the border and take its southern counterpart. Jinx, over the howling winds ravaging the aircraft and slowly picking it apart, heard a loud crackle of electricity from the floor below, a muffled cry, and the sound of a body thumping on the floor. She fervently hoped that it was Graves that was down, and not James Bond.

Suddenly, a sword flashed at her throat. It was Miranda Frost.

"My, my," the clipped English accent followed the sword. "You do get around. Give me the gun."

Jinx reached for the weapon holstered at her waist with her right hand. Miranda stopped her. "Uh-uh. Left hand."

Swapping hands, Jinx pulled out the gun and proffered it to Miranda, who took it. Great. She had now been captured by the enemy, and nobody was flying this thing. She couldn't even put the autopilot on unless Frost let her.

Suddenly, the sword was taken away, and the gun rang out. Jinx whirled to see Miranda aiming at the now-dead pilot, who had returned. Miranda motioned to Jinx. "Come on, get up." Completely bewildered, Jinx stood, and followed Miranda from the cockpit.

"Wait! I mean, I need to put the autopilot on first." Jinx tapped a few buttons, and the cockpit controls began to move of their own accord. Neither woman noticed that the plane was slowly turning, and inevitably heading for the Icarus beam.

Jinx couldn't fail to notice that the sword wasn't pointed at her, nor was the gun. Miranda strode alongside her, and obviously knew where she was going.

"Where are we going?" Jinx tentatively asked.

"To kill Graves." Miranda looked at her as if she was stupid.

"Kill… what? But… you're on his side! You're a double-crosser, who betrayed MI6 to help Graves."

"Wrong. I'm a triple-crosser. And MI6 know it. I pretend to betray MI6 to help Graves, but actually betray Graves and carry on helping MI6."

"But you used to be friends with him! You can't kill him."

Miranda smiled coldly. "You're probably right; Bond might have got there first."

Jinx was stunned. The web of deception was now so tangled that it was unfathomable.

"I accept that I made a lot of mistakes. When I and Zao locked you in the melting room, I intended to return and let you out. But Zao kept a close eye on me, and eventually Graves took me off to look at some pointless mechanism for Icarus. And when I had my gun pointed at Bond in Graves' office, I was going to turn and shoot Zao, then Graves, but the idiot broke the floor and stopped me. If you still don't trust me, take this." She handed Jinx her gun back.

They entered the corridor leading to the wrecked glass room, where Bond and Graves were clearly grappling near the biggest hole in the side. With the pair locked together and twisting around, neither woman could get a good aim on Graves, for fear of shooting Bond. Miranda took the easier option, and strode onto the floor, raising her gun to point at Graves' head from a metre. She couldn't miss.

The grappling stopped, and Graves released Bond, who slumped to the floor. Graves glanced at Miranda's face. This time there was no hint of deception, as there had been in his office. She was going to shoot him. Graves' blood went cold.

For the second time this day, he said, "So, Miss Frost is not all she seems."

Then he doubled up, as Bond delivered a mighty kick to his waist. Staggering back in pain, Graves grabbed a bare iron piece of framework and stopped himself being sucked out. Bond walked over, while Miranda and Jinx watched. This was Bond's duty; to end this thing.

"Time to face gravity," 007 smiled, and pressed the button on Graves' suit. The electric current found a circuit, and rerouted through Graves' body, the pain lancing through the Korean. Unable to hold on, he let go, and was ripped from the aircraft by the savage winds. Immediately, the engine swallowed him up, with only a short display of sparks marking Graves' demise.

Panting, Bond turned to face the two girls. "Well?"

"Well what?" Miranda shot back.

"How come you're still here and helping me against Graves? You're on his side!"

"Wrong. Just like your friend here. I was helping MI6, while pretending to help Graves, while pretending to help MI6."

Bond blinked, and decided to drop the conversation. He glanced at Jinx.

"Is she on our side?"

Jinx shrugged. "I think so. I mean, she did just enable you to kill Graves."

Miranda spoke Bond's thoughts. "We'll sort it all out back at MI6."

Hurrying through the corridors of the disintegrating plane, Bond led them to the hangar bay at the rear, where Graves' emergency helicopter stood idle. He activated the conveyor belt, while Jinx lowered the rear door, and Miranda unfastened the helicopter from restraints on the floor. Bond and Jinx climbed into the seats, and Miranda climbed over, to nestle in the diamonds.

"A girl could easily get comfortable here."

The Porsche at the back dropped out of the Antonov.

"Such a waste," Bond muttered.

Jinx looked at him in disbelief. "Shall I get out and stop the conveyor belt so that we can die saving the cars?"

Miranda smiled slightly. "Typical 007. Using all the muscles except the one that matters."

Jinx grinned at her. "For once, we agree on something."

The Ferrari dropped out of the rear, but Bond thought it best not to comment. The chopper slowly rolled towards the exit, while Jinx attempted to fire up the engines.

"Come on, come on…" she mumbled grimly.

Suddenly, with a high-pitched swooshing sound, the rotors sprang to life, and the helicopter lifted upwards just as the belt came to an end and the three spies plummeted from the dying Antonov. They safely floated away, and watched the huge aircraft disintegrate. First, an engine broke free, and then the tail. This meant that the aircraft swung crazily from side to side, shaking everything else loose. One whole wing broke off, and the Antonov began a slow barrel-roll, which sped up and kept going until the other wing snapped and fell away. Eventually, the inertia forces on the spinning plane were too great, and there was a clearly audible cracking sound as it split in half, and further broke up as what was left fell to earth. Below, there were some distant explosions, as some parts fell into the DMZ and activated bunches of the remaining landmines.

"We only made it by seconds," Bond morbidly observed. Jinx nodded, and set a course for the joint MI6/NSA base in South Korea.

**A.N. Well, quite like the last chappie, this one is about how Miranda Frost didn't die on the Antonov, but proved to be a valuable MI6 agent and returned to London. By now, I guess you can guess who the trio of the main storyline are, as every story in this section involves Bond.**

**And don't worry; the chapters will get a little longer in future. These ones are short because they basically only need to explain how Alec and Miranda survive.**

**Please R+R, and Chapter 3 will be up soon!**


	3. The Assignment

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life.**

**Also, despite this being supposedly present day, I intend Q to be portrayed as the old, Desmond Llewellyn Q, rather than John Cleese. Everyone else is up to date. It just seems better to me.**

(PRESENT DAY)

MI6 Headquarters, London

"Et la!"

The shining steel of the long saber glinted in the bright light as it swung back and forth, silver point swiping into crucial areas of virtual opponents' anatomies, and registering points on the scoreboard. One, two, and three, and the saber completed a complex stroke, taking out the final enemy in that VR level.

Miranda Frost removed the VR glasses and stood, panting slightly. She was in Q's VR room, testing out his newest invention. Q noticed the simulation finish and strode in, beaming.

"It's rather hard, isn't it?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes, but not hard enough to stop me."

Q frowned slightly. "Well, we'll see." He went back through the doorway. Checking the virtual scoreboard on his laptop propped on his desk in the next room, he shook his head slightly. Miranda never failed to surprise him.

She came through, sipping a glass of water delicately. Raising her eyebrows, she waited for Q's verdict. The old man shook his head, and showed her the figures.

"Well, you beat my simulation again… 003."

Miranda enjoyed the feeling of hearing her new codename for a brief moment, then put the glass down and stood up.

"Thank you for letting me practice, Q. Now, I have an appointment with M, so if you'll excuse me?"

Q saw her out of his branch, then immediately returned to the laptop and began tinkering with the VR program. Frost would be back within a few days, and the Quartermaster didn't intend to have his software lose to her for a record fourth time.

Alec Trevelyan was in the canteen when he heard the announcement, filtering through the MI6 P.A. system.

"Would Agent 006 please report to the Head of Department immediately, please? I repeat, would Agent 006 please report to the Head of Department immediately, please?"

Moneypenny's familiar tones set Alec cursing. His fresh tuna sandwich was much preferable to a meeting with M. In fact, being force-fed a live tuna fish was also generally preferable to a meeting with M. Hoping the announcement was not particularly urgent, he did his usual trick of pretending not to hear, and biting into the sandwich.

The system crackled to life again.

"As you seem to always miss these announcements, Alec… I repeat, would Agent 006 report to the Head of Department immediately? And immediately means now, Alec."

Trevelyan sighed, flung the tuna sandwich down, and headed off out of the canteen, taking a right turn and heading up a short flight of stairs to where he could take the lift to M's floor.

When he arrived, dawdling as much as possible, he opened the door, hoping to engage Moneypenny in small talk to prolong the time before the meeting with M.

The secretary glanced up. "Alec! Only five minutes late. Well done. Go straight through, M is waiting."

Trevelyan opened his mouth, shut it again, and smiled at Moneypenny, passing straight through into M's office.

The imposing head of MI6 glanced up from her desk. Icy-blue eyes cut into Alec's own.

"006, if you persist in being late for your meetings with me, I will remove you from your next two foreign assignments and designate you 24-hour surveillance duties. Do I make myself clear?"

Alec forced a smile. "Perfectly, M."

"Sit down. 007, you too."

Alec glanced around, and spotted James Bond in a corner, inspecting a painting with no interest whatsoever. Bond flashed Trevelyan a quick smile, which was returned, and the two men sat down in the usual two chairs. Alec noticed the unusual third chair.

M read his mind, or so it seemed, and said, "We will shortly have our final guest for this little discussion."

After a couple of minutes, during which Bond and Trevelyan exchanged small talk while M silently sifted through documents, the intercom buzzed. The two spies fell silent as M answered. "Yes, Moneypenny?"

"I'm sending 003 through now, M."

"Thank you, Moneypenny."

Bond and Trevelyan exchanged looks. Three double-0 agents working together? That hadn't been seen since the hunt for Renard, when every double-0 agent bar Alec, injured at the time, had been pulled from other operations and mobilized.

The door opened, and Bond blinked as 003 entered.

It was Miranda Frost.

Sure, the last 003 had been recently killed in action, and the identity of his successor had apparently only been decided a few days ago, but Bond hadn't dreamed that Miranda would make it this far.

Alec had never met her anyway, and stood up, offering his hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

Miranda took the hand and shook it without warmth. "Frost. Miranda Frost."

M took over greetings. "Miss Frost, this is 006, Alec Trevelyan, and 007, James Bond, who I believe you already know. Gentlemen, this is our new 003, Miranda Frost."

Alec sat down, processing this new information. So James already "knew her", meaning that he had probably slept with her, too. But he hadn't so much as greeted her?

M faced the three agents. "Agents, I have assembled you here to give you a joint assignment. A high-ranking Chinese operative by the name of Mao Xiang has betrayed his organization, the Chinese Intelligence Service, and has, over a period of years, accumulated a list of identities of some of the most dangerous field operatives in the world, from all organizations. MI5, MI6, CIA, NSA, KGB, NRO… the list is endless. He is willing to sell this information to the highest bidder. And in the global terrorist community, a lot of money will be staked on this. For the information held by this man, a lot of money will be paid, and a lot of operatives will consequently die. You," she indicated Bond, "and you," she indicated Trevelyan, "are almost certainly on that list. You," she indicated Frost, "may well be."

"However, Xiang's defection is not uncommon knowledge in the intelligence community. We have proof that the CIA and NSA already are working on it. We suspect that the KGB is acting on this information too. We are also going to pursue this man and attempt to kill him, or take the information from him before it is too late. And, as the best agents in this organization, you three are the ones to do it."

Alec recoiled. "So we're working alongside the KGB?"

M glared at him. "Yes, as you have so perceptively pointed out, 006, you may end up side-by-side with KGB operatives. Is there any problem with that?"

"Well, not for the moment."

"WILL there be any problem with that?"

"Er… no, M."

"Good." The icy-blue eyes scanned the other two double-0 agents sitting either side of Trevelyan. Miranda Frost was her usual calm, quiet self, and would never really contribute much to the discussion anyway. However, James Bond was not usually silent. He had a reputation for thinking one step ahead of the rest in meetings like these, but he had done nothing today.

M tried to prompt some response from them. "Is that clear with you, 003?"

Miranda's voice was as clipped as ever. "Perfectly."

"And you, 007?"

Bond stirred, and focused on M. Had he actually been listening? "Yes, M, that's fine."

M watched him momentarily. Bond was definitely out of sorts, that was for sure. Well, no point worrying about it. The man could handle himself.

"Fine. Agents dismissed."

Alec reached down to his right-hand side, to pick up a document that had fallen to the floor. "Fancy a pint now, James?"

There was no response.

Alec turned to see his friend gone, the door to M's office closing and Moneypenny audibly saying, "James?"

"I'll take you up on that offer, seeing as Bond's gone. Not a pint, though; I fancy a medium white wine."

Alec shrugged, and he and Miranda went downstairs to the bar.

Several hours later, the sun was setting. Miranda had been surprisingly good company, and Alec had learned that it was she who had taken advantage of and seduced Bond in Iceland, as opposed to the other way round. He intended to needle James with that one when he found him. But she had gone home now, and Alec was trying to find Bond before he went home too. Something was definitely up with him.

According to the security desk, 007 hadn't checked out, so unless he had parachuted from his office to the square below, he was still inside. Alec searched the canteen, the bar, the upper floors, Q-branch, and finally, found him, loitering around by a window on the top floor.

"It will be an anniversary of her birthday, you know."

Alec understood immediately. "Tracy."

Bond nodded. "Four days from now. Marc-Ange invited me to stay with him."

"Well, tell M. I'm sure she'll understand."

Bond smiled bitterly. "I doubt it. She's a bean-counter. She doesn't have emotions."

"Mmm, true."

A long silence passed.

"Sure you don't fancy a pint?"

Bond grinned. Alec couldn't keep him sad for long.

For the second time that day, Alec set off for the bar. At this rate, he would have no money left, and the three agents left tomorrow.

"So, tell me, what happened with you and Miranda in Iceland..."

The next day dawned, and Bond came into work the next day, case packed, to find the other two waiting for him.

"James! Feeling better today?"

Bond smiled. "Yes, thank you, Alec."

Miranda folded her arms. "Let's hope M gets her act together, or we might not get time to go to Q-Branch before we get the flight."

Bond shook his head. "You just knew she would be behind you when you said that, didn't you?"

Miranda winced. Sure enough, the Head of MI6, flanked by Robinson, was approaching behind. M glared at her.

"You will find, Miss Frost, that I am right on time. And your visits to Q-Branch depend entirely on my whim, not whether you and your playboy friends want some new toys."

Without even acknowledging the presence of 006 and 007, M swept off down the corridor. Robinson indicated that they should follow her. Picking up their cases, the three agents headed for their final destination before leaving for China:

Q-Branch.


	4. Q Branch

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life. **

MI6 Headquarters, London

As the three agents entered the Q-Labs, having lost M and Robinson somewhere along the way, Q walked up to them, looking uncharacteristically annoyed.

"Now pay attention, 007… and 006, and 003, I suppose. Although I doubt you two have the attention span of a gnat, like Bond here. This had better all be returned in usable condition, because rather than making four or five gadgets for one operative, I have had to make several more, in order to give each of you enough pieces of equipment. Of course, M wanted you to have a model of each of five gadgets each, but you will have to have different ones, because we currently don't have the funds to spend on fifteen things like this. The budget overspending is going through the roof these days. You wouldn't believe…"

Miranda cleared her throat.

Q shook himself, and turned, leading them over to the other side of the lab. "Yes, anyway, your equipment."

He picked up two stylish, diamond-studded rings from a table, and handed one to Miranda. Deliberating, he then gave the other to Alec. Bond pretended to look saddened.

Q gave him a withering look. "Oh, grow up, 007. If it troubles you that much, think of it as the fact that you don't need one because you're too naturally stylish."

Alec badly disguised a disbelieving snort. Bond threw him a dirty look.

"These are single-digit, sonic agitator units, concealed within the three fake diamonds on the ring. Put the ring on, twist it so, and the diamonds will send out the barely audible sonic waves. Press your hand up to a sheet of glass, and it will instantly shatter. Understand?" Without waiting for a response, although he wouldn't have got one anyway, Q moved on to the next table along, ducking to avoid a fake cufflink being fired like a missile across the room.

"Now, lock-picks. For you, Bond, there's a credit-card lockpick, as I know your penchant for spending and wasting money will make you think of your wallet regularly. And for you, Miss Frost, we have an earring lockpick. Rather ironically, this is a Chinese Intelligence invention, although we have changed the colour and shape to match the normal pair of earrings you wore back in Iceland, to avoid suspicion."

Miranda put it on. "A bit heavy, but not bad." Bond's credit card was already tucked in his wallet.

Q led them across the room, passing a self-destructing toaster, a remote-controlled camera hidden in a Pepsi can, and a grenade disguised as a Cadbury's Easter egg.

"Here is a fountain pen, with a dual reservoir. One contains blue ink; one contains highly concentrated phosphoric acid." Q took off the lid, and drew a wide circle on the side of a telephone box nearby. He then twisted the bottom of the pen to one side, and drew over the circle again. This time, acrid fumes boiled off the circle, there was a quiet hissing noise, and a circular-shaped piece of metal fell to the floor with a clang.

"Quite good, Q, but nothing to write home about," Alec quipped.

Even Miranda groaned at that one. "No wonder you and him are friends!"

Shaking his head, Q handed Bond and Trevelyan one each. "Morons… Now, you should have two gadgets each, correct? Good. Now, here is something for all three of you."

He reached into his pocket and drew out three Omega Seamaster watches.

Bond inspected them. "We've all used these before, Q."

"Yes, well, I'll give you the details anyway. Better safe than cutting your own head off because you pressed the wrong button."

He indicated the main dial on the side, used the change the time. "Press this in, hold for three seconds, and let go, and a piton wire will fire from it, with a miniature grappling hook folding out in the process." He indicated another button. "Press and hold this one, and after two seconds, a high-intensity laser beam will fire out from this small hole in the side. Provided you keep the button held down, the beam will fire for thirty seconds, then need five seconds to fully recharge, after which you can use it for another thirty seconds, and so on." He indicated the last remaining button. "Press this and hold for five seconds, and this section of the watch," he indicated a small groove running around the watch will slide out of the other side, and start spinning; a high-speed circular saw."

He handed them one each." May I remind you that I want all of these gadgets returned in pristine condition?"

Pocketing their small collection of gadgets, the three double-0 agents were about to depart, when Miranda halted. "Wait. What about transport? How are we supposed to get there?" She turned back to Q and asked him.

"Your transport will be waiting at Beijing Capital International Airport. A man from Chinese Intelligence will give it over."

Alec frowned. "It had better not be a tuk-tuk."

"Don't worry; we supplied the vehicle. Just read the notes that I've put on the passenger's seat. They tell you what everything does. Now go; you'll be worrying and rushing enough to the airport as it is!"

As it turned out, the three agents neither rushed nor worried; with their cases already packed and stored, they were ushered by Robinson into a waiting black limousine, which sleekly pulled away from Vauxhall Street, and took them to Heathrow in about half the time it would usually take, due to a combination of back-streets, speeding, and clever avoidance of traffic-jam hotspots. They didn't have to check in, either, after three brief stops to show government ID, the limousine rounded the back of Terminal 3 and drew straight up to the doorway where the other passengers on the flight were due to gather. The British Airways Boeing 757-300 was a large plane, and was both economy- and first-class. The three agents were due to go into the first-class section. Handing them their plane tickets, the limousine driver accompanied them over to the plane, where they handed over the tickets and boarded. The limousine departed just before the other passengers left the terminal to walk over to the plane; there was no need to arouse unwanted interest. When the other passengers boarded, the few that also entered first-class didn't spare a glance for Bond, Trevelyan or Frost; all three were dressed relatively casually and perfectly blended in.

The plane rose into the cloudy skies right on schedule, and with the captain informing them of a strong tailwind due to last until they passed over Germany, the journey looked to be faster than usual. Although when the flight was going to last ten hours anyway, tailwinds could only help so much.

After downing his third vodka martini, Bond slipped off to sleep for a few hours. Miranda read two magazines cover-to-cover then decided to set the seat to the bed position and do the same. Alec lasted the longest; but after reading two whole novels back-to-back and starting a third, he was bored comatose and decided to sleep too.

After five whole hours of sleep, Alec awoke to discover that they weren't even near Iraq yet. Cursing nobody in particular, he read his third novel, and then played cards with James and Miranda to decide who bought the next round of drinks. It was Bond who lost out, and only Miranda's eagle-eyes stopped him from handing the air hostess his Q-Branch lockpick credit card. They played again, and this time Miranda lost, but avoided paying for a wine, a pint and a vodka martini by pointing out that if they had much more, they would end up drunk, to which the other two reluctantly agreed.

By the time the descent to the Chinese night finally began, Bond had resorted to walking laps of the cabin for fun, a scintillating sport which Miranda took up in order to grade the other passengers' level of style. Alec hummed all of the songs he knew three times over, and when the captain announced the impending landing at Beijing, he practically leapt out of his bed in joy. The other two returned to their seat-beds, gathered together their snacks, cards and books, and waited for touchdown.

Upon exiting the aircraft, they headed for the baggage tracks, and, as promised by the BA staff, their bags came off first. Grabbing them, they headed for the exit, glad to be out in the open night air.

Bond pointed to one man in the crowd of drivers and greeters holding up boards with names on. This particular individual was holding up one that read "Universal Exports."

"That's Mr. Chang. I know him from the past."

Chang's face lit up as he recognised Bond. "Mr. Bond! I hear you tracked down Mr. Zao. Did you say goodbye from us?"

"I didn't say that as such, but I think he got the point."

"Good, good. Follow me. I have your car waiting."

Rounding the darkened terminal, following Bond and Chang (deep in conversation), Miranda and Alec exchanged glances. This Chang was obviously a lunatic. He laughed at the most unfunny of Bond's jokes, and even at some of Bond's basic statements, and paused three times by a car in the car park, before inspecting it, realising the mistake, and moving on. The first was a motorbike. The second was a Chinese van resembling a Ford Transit. And the third was a huge coach. Finally, Chang found the right car, which was an Aston Martin DB9 and didn't even resemble any of the three he had stopped at before.

"If that Mao Xiang even resembles Chang here, we'll be on the next flight home, job done," Miranda whispered.

Alec sniggered, and inspected their new transport. It had a beautiful interior, and the back seats looked roomier than he imagined. Other than climate control and on-board computer controls, the dashboard also contained several less luxurious buttons, like "Badge Saw" and "Rear Machine-Guns".

Miranda got in, resigned to the fact that one of these playboy spies would be driving, and sat in the rear. She scanned Q's notes, glancing up to see the appropriate button. This thing was absolutely loaded. Front and rear machine-guns, side-panel missiles, a circular saw under the badge, mortars at the back of the boot, more missiles in the front, the old Vanquish Active Camouflage cloaking device, radar, thermal imaging, traction spikes in the tyres, smoke-screen, canisters of tyre spikes to drop behind, a titanium chassis, armour plating, ejector seats… the list went on and on and on. It even had sat-nav.

Bond thanked Chang, pocketed the keys, and gave Alec some co-ordinates to put into the sat-nav system. Apparently, they led to an office block, where Xiang used to work undercover. He had only recently left, and his desk hadn't been cleared out yet. There might be clues to pick up. Getting into the driver's seat, Bond fired up the engine.

"I drive next journey," Alec was quick to point out. Miranda rolled her eyes. Bond quickly got to know the controls, waited for the sat-nav to process Alec's instructions, and set off for the Huangshan Corporation office block.

"We will arrive in 18 minutes and 24 sec... no, 23 seconds," Alec announced. Bond raised an eyebrow. The average driver using sat-nav didn't drive like 007. If he didn't get there in less than quarter of an hour, he vowed to even give Miranda a drive before his next turn.

Behind, Chang folded his arms and watched the DB9 screech off in a cloud of smoke, destined for Xiang's last workplace. He turned to leave, and headed to the taxi rank, which would take him back to base.

In the bushes to his right, there was a small movement, which the Chinese agent didn't notice. A small click was heard, and suddenly Chang felt a bit queasy. He felt a stabbing pain in his neck, and instantly clapped a hand to the spot. A small dart was buried deep in his jugular vein. Chang staggered slightly, and limply fell to the ground as the poison flooded his bloodstream. The last thing Mr. Chang ever saw was a cloaked shape with powder-white face and hands rising from the bushes, inspecting Chang's dying form, and running off into the night.

Then the Chinese operative shuddered, gasped, and died.


	5. Night Shift

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life. **

Beijing, China

In the end, Bond's maniacal driving style got them there in just eleven minutes and six seconds. Miranda looked ready to throw up, and even Alec, who was capable of beating Bond in a straight race, was slightly pale. When they pulled up outside the Huangshan Corporation skyscraper, the passenger door couldn't have been flung open fast enough, nor could the seat have been pushed forward any quicker.

Bond got out, locked the car and stretched. "Ah, nothing like a spirited ride to wake you up at night."

Alec muttered something indecipherable, while Miranda didn't pass comment, and the trio set off for the building.

Miranda unsteadily indicated a high-up balcony. "If we all use our watches, we could grapple up there and gain entry."

Bond scanned the tower even higher up. "According to Chang, Xiang's desk was on the seventy-ninth floor. Provided there are enough balconies, it would be faster to grapple from balcony to balcony until we get near that level."

He himself went first, and the piton cord on his Omega Seamaster watch fired out, the grappling hook on the end folding outwards, and passed the balcony, catching on a guardrail on the way back. Bond activated the motor, and was drawn quickly up to the balcony, where he climbed over the guardrail and waited. Next came Alec, who didn't get a hook on the balcony first time around but tried again, and then Miranda, who went one better by hooking onto a strut above the balcony door, and dropping nimbly to the floor.

Bond smiled sarcastically. "Very impressive. Like to pick our next destination?"

Miranda didn't rise to the bait, and aimed at a distant balcony, hooking onto the guardrail there, and rising up into the darkness.

They all repeated this move twice more, until, by Trevelyan's counting, they were around the seventy-fifth floor. The next balcony was another twenty away.

Miranda glanced at the glass door. "Sonic agitator time?"

Bond shook his head. "No, I have a better idea. If we use the watch lasers to melt away the rubber seal holding the glass in place, we can carefully lower the glass pane to the floor, go through, then put the glass back in place and let the rubber set again. A guard looking in on the room will never see any difference whatsoever."

Bond melted the top of the seal, Trevelyan melted the left-hand side and half of the bottom, and Frost meted the right-hand side and half of the bottom. Carefully, they prized the glass free, and stepped into the warmer skyscraper. Bond pushed the glass back up, and waited for ten seconds, after which the rubber had re-hardened and the door was indistinguishable from its previous state.

Stepping out into the corridors, they noticed that the building was still dimly lit, meaning that there must be night guards around. Sure enough, Alec rounded the first corner, and collided with one. Quickly, he incapacitated him with a quick blow to the head.

Miranda inspected a floor plan hung on the wall. "You two? This is the seventy-seventh floor. We need to find the stairs and go up two flights, then find Xiang's desk."

Alec frowned. "How will we know which one that is?"

Bond answered. "Chang said it's in Room 23B. We'll have to find that."

Miranda traced a route to the stairs on the floor plan with her finger, and then saw a movement out of the corner of her eye.

A night guard, peering around a corner at the three spies.

Cursing, she ran after the guard, who bolted for the nearest alarm panel. He turned to the right, dashed through an office, turned to the right again, passed through another office, and ran down a corridor which bent to the right. Hurtling through another office, he slammed through the door on the other side, and…

Tripped over Alec's outstretched foot.

Sliding across the floor, the guard hit the wall with a muffled thump, and fell still. Miranda was bemused. "What? How…" she panted.

Alec shook his head, smiling. "Think about it. We could see you from here, through various windows and corridors. He kept turning right in his panic, and made a full circle. Obviously a newbie."

Bond turned from inspecting the same floor plan that Miranda had left, and grinned. "Well, now we know that not every guard here is first-class. They shouldn't pose many problems. This way to the stairs."

Annoyingly, every office door number was written in Chinese, so upon the discovery of every new office on the seventy-ninth floor, Bond had to laboriously translate for the other two. They passed 22A, 22B (twice), 23D, 24A, 25C and 25D (twice) before finally coming across 23B.

Entering, they spread out, and entered each computer cubicle, reading the name tags, which were in English symbols, thankfully.

It was Alec who found Mao Xiang's desk, after five minutes of silent searching.

"It's here!" The other two looked up and hurried over, to have a look at the contents.

"I'll keep watch," Bond volunteered, going over to the only door to the big room. Once, a guard passed, but Bond stepped out and knocked him quickly out, dragging the senseless form into a corner of the office and resuming guard duty.

Miranda and Alec grabbed every single piece of paper in Xiang's desk and stuffed it into a satchel belonging to another employee.

"Memory Stick," Alec quickly suggested.

"Come again?"

"You know; those little USB sticks that hold loads of data. Have a hunt around and see if you can find one in here. Then we can fire up Xiang's PC and copy all of his personal stuff to it, and take it away for a look."

Miranda nodded, and quietly searched the office for any USB sticks. Alec obtained a second satchel while Bond simultaneously obtained a second senseless guard, and began stuffing more of Xiang's papers into the pockets. Most looked like useless work documents, but something private might be tucked away in there somewhere…

"Alec!" Miranda hissed from the other side of the room. He looked up. "Catch!"

A large USB stick landed in his hands. He smiled, and gave Miranda a thumbs-up. Booting up Xiang's PC, he inserted and cleared the stick of data, then left Miranda to copy as much as possible to it, and resumed taking papers from drawers.

From the doorway, a muffled cry sounded, and Bond dragged a third guard into the dark corner. "Hurry up," he warned quietly. "These men will start to be missed soon."

Alec filled the second satchel and quickly found another rucksack, and stuffed the last few papers in. He glanced up at Miranda.

"How are you doing?"

"Great," she replied. "All of Mao Xiang's personal stuff is on this USB stick, and I'm just topping it up with e-mail records, deleted items and so on. Are we ready?"

"Yeah. Disconnect and let's get out of here."

Miranda shut the PC down, removed and sealed the USB stick, and zipped it safely in her pocket. Shouldering a satchel each, they handed the rucksack to Bond on the way out, and quickly hurried down the corridors.

"So, how do we get out?" Alec asked.

Bond answered. "We get to the stairs, fix our watch rappel cords to the rail, and jump down the gap in the middle of the stairwell. We should be able to drop about thirty floors before the cable runs out, and then swing onto the stairs and so the same again. Then break out of the front."

Miranda reached the stairs first and wrenched open the door. Looking down, she stopped dead.

A team of armed men was ascending, about five floors below. Evidently, the guards had been missed sooner than expected.

Alec swore. "If we can't go down, we need to go up!"

The three MI6 agents dashed up the stairs. Harsh Chinese cries and a few shots rang out. Bond saw the guards begin running upwards, too, and they were catching slowly up, already only four floors below. Floor after floor passed in a whirling blur. Slowly, the armed guards were relentlessly catching up with them.

The stairs seemed to have no end, but as they finally saw the roof door approaching, Miranda had an idea, and pushed the second-top-floor door with all her might. Then she quietly ascended the final floor. The roof door closed quietly behind her, while the door below clanged noisily. The guards took the bait and checked out that floor, which was lucky since they were only two floors below by now, and would easily have gunned the three double-0 agents down on the exposed rooftop.

Bond breathed a sigh of relief. As he had hoped, there was a helipad with a helicopter sitting idle. Important guests with business near the top of the building were never expected to wait for a lift to rise ninety floors in China. It was unthinkable. The trio ran over to it.

Alec smashed one of the chopper windows, then climbed in. Rummaging around briefly, he gave an audible "Ah-ha!" and tossed out a bunch of parachutes from the emergency kit. Clambering back out, he strapped it on, and then helped the other two.

Behind, the roof door clanged, and shots were fired their way. The trick hadn't worked for long.

Bond made sure he had his rucksack tightly secured to him, as well as the parachute, then grabbed his comrades' hands, and without a second thought or any words, dashed to the edge of the roof and leapt off.

Pulling the ripcords at twenty floors up, the descent took under ten seconds in total.

Miranda landed first, and was quick to cast off her parachute and run towards the DB9, leaping into the back with her satchel and valuable USB stick safely tucked in her closed pocket.

Bond headed for the driver's door, but was pulled back.

"Wait your turn," Alec playfully admonished, despite the dangerous situation, and took the car keys off Bond, leaping into the driver's seat himself. Bond shook his head, and took one final glance back before getting into the passenger's side.

Silhouetted against the sky, the team of armed guards watched from afar as the silver DB9 roared off into the night, carrying all of Mao Xiang's precious digital and written work from the last two years.


	6. Face from the Past

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life.**

**Due to an impending holiday, there won't be any new chapters of "An Unlikely Alliance" until next week at the earliest. But I've given you six to start with, so you can't say that's bad! **

Beijing, China

Alec pulled the DB9 into a deserted corner, on the middle floor of a multi-storey car park. As he did so, he just couldn't resist pulling a handbrake turn to slide neatly into a parking space.

Miranda sighed, muttering, "Men."

They were about seven miles from the Huangshan Corporation office block, and although the streets had been clear of cars, Alec had driven quickly and had made Miranda remotely control the rear machine guns by a little control panel on top of the boot, to either encourage pursuers to back off, or force them to. However, they hadn't seen anyone, and had turned into this empty multi-storey car park to find a space to examine the data they had taken from Xiang's workplace.

"USB stick?" Bond asked.

Miranda rummaged around in a pocket, and drew it out. Bond plugged it into a slot on the side of the DB9's onboard computer. The screen lit up, and loaded the data.

"What have we here…" Alec murmured, using the touchpad under the computer screen to navigate the menus.

"Oh, great…"

Everything was in Chinese.

Bond sighed. "Here." He retraced a few menus, set the language of the whole system to English, and waited a moment while Xiang's files were flawlessly translated.

Alec took control of the touchpad back, and scanned the list of stuff they had taken from the office PC.

"Contacts? Let's have a look."

What followed was a very long list of Chinese names.

"Lin Tong, Xi Huang, Tan Kasaki…"

The list continued like this for some time.

"Shan Hu'an, Shi Lang, Wai Lin…"

"Stop!" Bond held up a hand. "Wai Lin. I know her; she was with me on the Carver mission. This must be a list of Chinese Intelligence operatives."

"Hmm… You're right; they all have the same telephone number, so unless they share a huge flat or something…"

Miranda indicated another option. "Try addresses."

Alec did so, but then realised one crucial thing. "This data will probably have the names and addresses of every Chinese Intelligence employee from here to Hong Kong - except one."

Bond slumped. "Of course. Mao Xiang won't bother to put himself in his address book, will he?"

Miranda shook her head determinedly. "It can't be as simple as that. Somewhere, his details must be on here. When he logs on, or checks his e-mail, or…"

Alec returned to the screen. "E-mail. Let's give that a go."

Trawling through Xiang's seemingly massive inbox, several messages stood out as odd.

"Here, look; the identity of the sender is withheld, and the message is just a weird stream of letters." It read, "meealeapafetlttttahwmhzao." Alec frowned. "Perhaps the translator cocked up. Let's try again." He re-translated the whole system into English, and then checked the e-mail.

It was still the same.

Bond frowned. "It's some kind of code."

Miranda remarked acidly, "Perhaps you should consider asking someone who was in cryptology for two years."

Alec brightened. "Good idea. Know anyone?"

Miranda sighed. "Me?"

"Ah. Well, Miss Cryptologist, see anything in this?"

"How many letters are there?"

"Er, 10...15...20…25, exactly."

Miranda took a blank sheet out of the satchel. Splitting the stream into five rows of five, she made a neat 5 letters by 5 letters box. Then she read down the columns, from left to right.

meeal

eapaf

etltt

ttahw

mhzao

"The stream of "meealeapafetlttttahwmhzao" becomes "meet me at the plaza at half two"." Miranda sat back triumphantly.

Alec glanced at Bond. "Is she usually this annoyingly clever?"

Bond nodded. "Most of the time."

Miranda shook her head. "It's a really basic code. One of the first I learnt."

Alec turned to her again. "Can you do the same with the other…" he checked the list, "six coded messages?"

Miranda shrugged. "I should be able to. Read them all out, and I'll get going while you follow up some other lead."

Alec did so, and while Miranda busied herself sorting the garbled messages out, he and Bond checked out the rest of Xiang's stuff. Namely, the paperwork.

They sat in silence for the next few minutes, Miranda occasionally passing Alec a decoded message, until Bond found something.

"Another code." It was handwritten on a piece of notepaper, as opposed to the company documents, which were all typed on clean, white A4 sheets. "36 letters. One of your square codes, Miranda."

She took it, and put it to one side, passing a decoded one back.

It took a long time, but after nearly an hour of sifting through papers and cracking codes, the three double-0 agents were finished.

Gathering around the centre of the cabin, Bond reviewed what they had found.

"Right. We have two possible addresses to check out, for this Mao Xiang. Apparently, he's pretty rich, and has big connections, apart from the obvious Chinese Intelligence ones. Firstly, there's one right here, on the outskirts of Beijing. That's his home address; the chances that he'll be there are minimal. However, there might be stuff to pick up, provided the Chinese haven't already taken it."

"And the other one?" Alec asked.

"Well, the other one relates to some kind of old warehouse, on the outskirts of an industrial park twenty miles from Beijing. We've got no idea what that's for, as we've got home and work covered already."

"Secret meetings with his criminal associates?" Miranda suggested.

Bond was thoughtful. "Perhaps… Anyway, we'll check out the house first, and then move on to the warehouse."

Miranda brightened. "My turn to drive!"

Bond and Trevelyan groaned.

By the time they reached their destination, it was raining. The DB9 slowed to a stop in a deserted lane, near the gates to Mao Xiang's apparently big house. Climbing out, Bond half-heartedly tried the gates, but they were locked, which wasn't surprising.

What was surprising were the layers of razor-sharp glass shards covering every inch of the top of the perimeter walls, jammed into some kind of gel clamped to the top of the wall and immovable.

Alec leapt back down from the top, drying his hands off, and shook his head. "This guy really doesn't want anyone getting in."

Miranda examined the tall gates, and replied, "Well, I doubt he expected Q-Branch to try."

Pulling out the fountain pen, she twisted the bottom to one side, and drew a big circle on the damp wooden gates. There was a faint hissing sound, and the wood around the line blackened and dissolved. A large circular piece of wood fell into a puddle on the driveway with a splash and a clunk. Miranda put the top back on the pen, and climbed through the gap, followed by Bond, then Trevelyan.

Standing on the gravelly driveway of Xiang's house, the agents studied the house. It was quite tall, with a steep pagoda roof. There were several lanterns lit, hanging around the porch and decking circling the walls, and swinging in the light breeze. However, there were only a few windows. Bond quietly paced up the steps, and tried the sliding front door.

"Locked," he hissed back to the others. However, he drew his wallet out, and removed the credit card. Sliding the top back, a small lockpick folded out, and he inserted it into the door lock. After a bit of wiggling it around, the door clicked, and Bond slid it back.

They were in.

The three agents entered, glancing cautiously around. However, apart from the numerous lanterns dotted around the house, which cast a soft glow throughout the corridors, there were no signs of life, as all of the overhead lights were off.

Alec looked closely at one of the lanterns. "Thick wax, and a long taper. These things could stay lit for days without relighting."

Miranda took a quick look down two corridors leading off into the big house. "He mustn't be here."

Bond turned, and jogged out of the door, down the driveway. "Hang on, I'll just go check something."

He returned within the minute, brushing the water from his clothes. "I used the DB9's thermal imaging to scan the house. Apart from the lanterns and you two, there's no heat whatsoever. He's not here."

Alec nodded, satisfied. "Good. Split up, and let's check the house for any evidence. Take a bag each, and meet up back here in about ten minutes? Good."

The three agents went their separate ways, and checked all of the numerous rooms for anything useful.

Outside, in the rain, there was a slight movement as a cloaked shape with powder-white face and hands climbed through the hole in the gates, and ran silently off into the darkness of the garden.

Bond searched an interesting-looking study that he came across. Opening the drawers, he did what the others had done at the Huangshan Corporation building, and stuffed every file and piece of paper in to examine later on. There was still plenty of room left. He opened the study door again, and walked back out, to try the next door. He opened it, and took a step back.

In the lantern-light, metal teeth glinted as Bond was thrown backwards into the opposite wall.

Over at the other side of the house, Alec heard the thump, and stood up from his inspection of a desk, frowning.

"James probably fell off a balcony or something," he muttered. Still, best to go and check. Leaving his empty satchel tucked in a corner, 006 jogged off into the house to investigate.

Meanwhile, Miranda was bored. She had found nothing so far, except bedroom upon bedroom, all untouched. Coming to a sliding door, she opened it, and was about to step out when she saw the ornate plants and small stream. Great. She had found the back door.

Miranda just had time to see a grinning albino man step out of the shadows of the porch before she was hit and blacked out.

Alec paced through the deserted hallways. "James? James? Look, if this is some kind of practical joke, you're leaving here strapped to the roof of the DB9. I promise you that…"

Alec tailed off when he saw the dent in the wall, the unconscious form of 007 slumped at the bottom, and the looming giant with metal teeth standing over him.

"Ah…"

Suddenly, there was a noise behind, and Alec turned in time to block a karate chop from a thin albino man swathed in a cloak. Delivering a swift punch to the albino's stomach, Alec kicked him in the groin. However, the man recovered, and grasped Alec's throat with surprising force. Alec held on, but quickly felt dizzy, and purple spots exploded in front of his eyes. He was running out of breath fast. The albino smirked as he tightened his grip.

There was a loud, hollow bang, and suddenly the pressure on Alec's throat was released. He reeled, and gasped for breath, sucking oxygen into his starved lungs. The albino slumped to the floor, revealing Miranda, massaging her aching head and brandishing a metal pole from the lantern stand in the garden. She dropped it, and gazed upwards, at the metal-toothed giant standing over the unconscious Bond. Strangely, he hadn't moved throughout the tussle.

"Who is he?" Miranda whispered to Alec.

Alec shrugged, breathing deeply in. "I don't know, but he seems tough."

Miranda considered, then picked up the metal pole and threw it at the man's stomach as if she was throwing a sword or knife.

It bounced off with a clang.

Alec frowned. "Okay, so he _is_ tough."

Miranda asked cautiously, "What do you want from us?"

The metal-toothed man stayed silent, but pointed at them, then at Bond's satchel.

"He wants our satchels of paperwork. He must be retrieving them for Xiang," Alec hissed to Miranda.

Miranda reached down to open her satchel, then rummaged around, pulled out a bunch of papers and tossed them on the floor in front of the towering man. He looked at them, then slowly bent to pick them up.

As he did so, Alec grabbed a lantern and smashed it over his head.

The man reeled back blindly, spreading the papers around with his foot. Two or three sheets floated into the lantern, and quickly caught fire. The flames spread to the other sheets, as well as the cloak of the senseless albino man, and crawled up the wooden beams on the walls and roof. Soon the whole corridor was ablaze, and with the whole house predominantly made of dry wood, the flames were rapidly starting to spread out into the house.

Alec coughed in the smoke starting to fill the room, and said urgently, "Help me get Bond out of here!"

Between Miranda and Alec, they managed to heft Bond and stagger out of the blazing room with him, heading for the open front doorway. Behind, the huge metal-toothed man staggered around blindly in the flames, until he hit a low roof beam, which collapsed on top of him, along with a large portion of the upstairs and the roof. He was completely buried. The unconscious albino was consumed by flames, and only woke up briefly to give a short cry of agony before he met his death.

Out in the pouring rain, Bond was revived by the water splashing on his face. "What? Who? Where… Jaws! I saw Jaws!"

Alec rolled his eyes. "Really? So did we, funnily enough."

Bond spluttered and stood unsteadily up. "Where is he?"

Miranda indicated Mao Xiang's burning house. As she did so, the whole west wing caved in, and a large shower of sparks burst from the rubble. "Under a large portion of the roof and a heavy wooden beam. He's dead."

Bond laughed humourlessly. "Yeah, right. Trust me, a tank couldn't stop Jaws. Let's get out of here before he climbs out of the wreckage."

Alec and Miranda looked doubtful, but they climbed out of the hole in the gates, and sped away in the DB9 immediately, leaving Mao Xiang's home burning brightly in the night.


	7. A Dead End

**A.N. Obviously, I own none of the characters, vehicles, gadgets or locations of this fanfic unless I say otherwise in an A.N. like this one. Kudos to MGM and Ian Fleming for inventing them and bringing them all to life. **

Outskirts of Beijing, China

Alec peered up through the rain-distorted windscreen at the large warehouse in front of them. It had taken some navigating to find the right one, as Mao Xiang had apparently chosen, for his unknown purposes, the innermost and most difficult to access. Still, on the front was a faded logo, which had been replaced with a newer sign, in English. It read, "Cybernet Enterprises."

Miranda leaned over from the rear. "An English-only sign on an old, remote Chinese warehouse. Sound odd to you?"

Bond nodded. "Especially as we've been forced to pass most of the other warehouses to get to this one, and even the bigger, newer complex ones had signs in Chinese, or at least English and Chinese. It's definitely suspicious. Shall we investigate, then?"

Alec threw him a sarcastic look. "Actually, I was looking forward to Classic FM's night-time show, but I don't suppose they have it here, so we might as well go in to pass the time." He got out, followed by Miranda, rolling her eyes at him.

Bond led the way to the main door, which was, entirely unsurprisingly, locked. Without any visible sign of an actual lock, the door was probably electrically operated, and from the inside only, too.

Miranda shook her head as she scanned the warehouse walls for potential entry points. "A new electric lock on an old warehouse? Without an outside operating panel, meaning remote entry? This sounds more and more suspicious. There; a skylight on that bit of sloping roof." Bond and Alec nodded at where she was indicating, a dirty skylight which was unlikely to cast much light into the building, judging by its colour, but would serve their purpose fine.

Trying to attract as little attention as possible, Alec grappled up first and kicked the skylight in, sending glass crashing to the distant warehouse floor below. Miranda followed him up, slipping slightly on the wet roof, and then Bond, brushing water from his hair. Alec hooked the grapple wire onto a protruding corrugated-iron roof sheet and jumped down into the gloom, vanishing from view. Bond and Miranda peered down after him until the grapple wire stopped shaking and a clang was heard.

"I'm in!" came Alec's hiss from below. "Chuck the wire down, could you?" Miranda quickly pulled the end of the grapple from its hook and it was slowly reeled towards the skylight and down, out of sight.

Next Bond went down, then Miranda. When she landed, she found that she was on a metal catwalk, but it was impossible to see anything else. Bond was standing nearby, idly playing with his watch laser on a stack of cardboard boxes beside him.

"Ah-ha!" came a muffled cry from some distance to the right, then a switch was loudly thrown, and light flooded the warehouse. Alec emerged from a small office at one end of the catwalk. Bond turned his watch laser off and looked around. They were ten or so feet above the centre of the dirty warehouse floor, and there were several forklift trucks below. Huge stacks of cardboard boxes covered the edges of the floor, but they were all closed. The warehouse was just essentially one big room, with a set of steps leading to the catwalk which crossed the room and went into a small office room on metal stilts.

Bond pointed at the various boxes. "We need to take a look at whatever's in those boxes. I'll take this half, Miranda can take that half, and Alec, you can take the office then come down to help us."

They split up and got to work immediately. No time was spared, and Bond and Miranda simply shoved high piles of boxes to send them tumbling loudly to the floor, and then checked each one. They all contained sheaf after sheaf of papers, with lists of words on them, but Bond found many useless, as most were in Chinese, apart from some others, which were in languages like Russian and, from what little he knew, Korean. However, the odd one was in English, but it was just a list of meaningless names, with a letter ranging from B down to M. Every now and again was the letter A beside a name. Bond was perplexed. What was this; exam results or something? Had they broken into the World School Examination Committee warehouse? He shook his head and carried on.

The same went for Miranda. She searched through boxes and boxes, most of which were French or German. Luckily, she was fluent in both, and recognized some of the endless lists of words to be names. Beside hers were also letters, Bs to Ms with the odd A. She frowned, closed a box, and shoved another stack, as much out of annoyance as need. There was a loud crash, and she ripped open the first box. Another German one.

Alec appeared above, with a big pile of boxes. Seeing the mess the others were making, he gleefully tipped his boxes off the catwalk, to burst open in a flurry of white paper below. Miranda couldn't resist smiling at the sight of Alec acting like a destructive child.

Bond turned to them, wearily. "No use. It's a bunch of names with letters beside them."

Miranda nodded in assent, kicking another stack in frustration. "Same here. No wonder the Amazon is dying; it's all coming here."

Alec descended and joined them. "So, what do we do now?"

Suddenly, as they stood in the centre of the floor, there was a loud bang and the iron warehouse door crumpled like tin-foil amidst an orange glow, which faded quickly. They all dived for cover, and several figures dressed in black entered, framed by one huge, hulking figure at their rear, who picked up the big door and idly tossed it to one side, flattening a set of shelves (holding more boxes) in the process.

Bond picked himself up and drew his Walther PPK. "Told you Jaws was fine."

Miranda and Alec gaped. Meanwhile, the ten or so black-suited figures, who were dressed in black survival suits with balaclavas to hide their faces, spread out to surround the trio of double-0 agents.

Bond was the first to react, and as the figures drew long metal staffs, he shot one through the head instantly.

"_Ninjas_?" Alec would have laughed had the situation not been more serious. "Oh come on, NINJAS? This is the twenty-first century! Henchman just… don't… dress like ninjas!"

One leapt towards him, and swung his staff at Alec's head. He ducked, and the staff missed, and as the "ninja" turned to hit him again, he brought his gun up and snuffed his life out. "They're not even good ninjas?"

Miranda gulped as one jumped into a forklift truck and raised the spikes to head level. "I wouldn't be so sure, Alec."

Bond dispatched another one, and then jumped into a forklift truck himself. Clumsily plunging through a huge pile of boxes as he wrestled with the controls, he ran down two more, but then hit Jaws himself with a loud crump.

Jaws folded, and literally flew across the room at high velocity. He smashed into a creaking shelving unit, which disintegrated on top of him, burying him under at least a ton of heavy boxes and metal. Bond didn't hesitate, and turned to face the forklift attacking Miranda. She dived nimbly for cover anyway, far faster than the black-suited driver could react, but Bond took no chances, and gunned the throttle, heading directly for the other forklift but jumping out at the last second. He rolled over on the hard floor, and stumbled to his feet to see his truck sweep the other one into the wall without slowing.

Then the mess really began.

The huge explosion and fireball blasted metal shelves in all directions, almost taking out Alec as he wrestled with another "ninja", and further crushing the pile that Jaws was somewhere under. And if the flying paper before had been a snowstorm, this was like a hurricane, blizzard and tornado, in the middle of the North Pole. All at once. Over the white mass filling the air, Miranda shouted to anyone who could hear,

"Alec! DB9! James! The DB9!"

Hoping that the Chinese weren't too familiar with the models of English supercars, and therefore wouldn't know what she meant, she dashed towards where she thought the door was, through the whirling haze. Dispatching one last black-suited figure who stumbled into her path, she hit the far wall and moved along it until she found the space where the door had been. She rushed out into the air, vision clear at last, and dashed to where the Aston Martin was still hidden in a side-alley, untouched. Alec was already getting in. Miranda leapt into the passenger seat and tapped over the weapons systems quickly, just as Bond stumbled out of the chaotic warehouse. More orange flashes lit up the white storm as some "ninjas" hit each other with their staffs in panic, sending sparks flying as metal hit metal. Bond climbed into the rear, as Miranda engaged the missile systems.

"Missile systems activated. Preparing for launch."

As soon as the system was ready, Miranda used thermal imaging to pick out the forklifts inside, aimed for where she hoped the petrol tanks were, and fired one missile at each, five in all. Just to help, she lobbed a few grenades in too, and then Alec decided it was time to go, and slammed on the throttle, the DB9 screeching away from the scene at neck-breaking speed. Behind, there were a succession of ear-blasting bangs, and the warehouse literally exploded, walls and flimsy roof erupting outwards with flames and shrapnel. Smoke billowed from what was left, as a huge fire raged.

Miranda closed down the weapons systems and sat back.

Bond spoke all of their thoughts. "That was our last lead. We have no new ones."

"What do we do now?" Alec asked.

There was silence for a while.

"Perhaps… perhaps it's time we reported back to MI6," Miranda suggested.

The DB9 headed away from another scene of flames and destruction, for the second time in one night, barely sliding on the wet Chinese roads.


End file.
